


Monkey Bats and Other Pillow Talk

by dapatty



Category: Tin Man
Genre: M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-09
Updated: 2008-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapatty/pseuds/dapatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's early morning and Wyatt has the patience of a Saint-a Saint bound to get laid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monkey Bats and Other Pillow Talk

“Monkey bats!” Glitch calls out with a start, slapping his hand against the mattress causing his dark curls to bob.

Wyatt sighs, then finds himself smiling. Leave it to that—no, his—brainless zipperhead to completely sidetrack where they were heading. They had not been awake very long and they didn’t get much sleep last night. It’s been hard to get time to themselves these days, since they’d been helping the princesses with kingdom-rebuilding. He shifts to make his erection more bearable and reminds himself to be patient. They have the whole day off.

“What about monkey bats?” he asks, with a lifted eyebrow, and touching Glitch’s face. His touch seems to act as an eraser and the anxiety glides to confusion.

“Boy scout?” Glitch asks, meeting his lover’s eyes. A smile flashes across his face, and fades. “Don’t remember. It seemed important, but now…” he shrugs.

“Just another misfire, then?” Wyatt asks and shifts again, in order to bring his face closer. Close enough to be tempted to brush his finger along the edge of those long eyelashes of his, but instead stealing a kiss and pressing his cock against Glitch’s thigh.

“Yeah,” Glitch muses. “Maybe I was having a dream—a night terror. Wouldn’t be the first time. Of course, it’s a wonder there is enough memory to come up with that, given the lack of source material. I mean, we only ran into monkey bats the one time and the kingdom was at stake and hey, _that’s not your hand._ ”

“’Bout time you noticed,” Wyatt says with a smirk.

Glitch deflates. “I’m sorry. I’m a dope. Why did you let me carry on so long?”

“But you’re my dope.” Wyatt shrugs. “You always come back around.” He rubs the inside of his lover’s thigh.

“I’d be less of a dope if I had my brain put back,” Glitch states, sounding resolved, but looking unsure. “Maybe. I don’t remember being a dope before.”

“If that’s what you want,” Wyatt exudes confident acceptance, brushing tendrils of hair gently away to kiss that space under Glitch’s ear where it meets his neck.

Glitch moans appreciatively, conversation forgotten for the moment. He climbs onto the tin man’s lap to better align their bodies, their tongues taking over instead as they explore each others’ mouths.

That is, until Glitch stops abruptly and declares, “Eight hour stew!”

Wyatt chuckles in response as he lifts his lover off his lap and lays him down. Wyatt spreads the distracted man’s legs to begin to get him back on track, but Glitch continues, apparently unaware. “You have to brew them—monkey bats—in an eight hour stew if you want to eat them. If for some reason you wanted to eat them,” he explains, then sighs. “I’ve never been all that into delicacies though. And skinning them is difficult, although it’s apparently traditional in some regions to eat the wing sections deep-fried, and…” He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re giving me that ‘yes dear’ look. Except it’s exceptionally dirty.”

“Well,” Wyatt begins, and cups the balls of his overly distractible companion, caressing gently. “I was thinking about a certain delicacy that I enjoy.”

“R-r-really? What?”

In response, Wyatt licks the underside of his lover’s cock before sliding it into his mouth.

“Oh!” Glitch moans as Wyatt sucks him off, tongue making lazy strokes, humming to himself contentedly with each moan, usually setting off another. The tin man lowers his mouth farther, milking with his lips, tongue, and throat. His hands slide under Glitch’s ass and grip firmly, sucking in rhythmic pulses until the brunette’s curls rise off the pillow with a ragged, desperate gasp and Wyatt swallows with a smug smile. “That was anything but delicate,” Glitch says breathlessly, sagging against the mattress.

“I guess not,” Wyatt shrugs, resting his head contentedly on Glitch’s thigh while they recover. They breathe in unison, unthinking, just being, but in time Wyatt can feel the tension return to his bedmate, can taste it in the air, knows Glitch is afraid it won’t last, can never last. Slowly, he lets his fingers wander over the dark, soft hairs, drifting down, and slides a finger into the other man’s body. He looks up at Glitch, pleased to see the distraction is successful, watching his sweetheart blink and react, gasps and pleasure replacing fear and worry. A second finger joins the first, and then a third, working in and circling Glitch’s prostate easily, still wet and pliant from their most recent round. Glitch squirms and moans and spreads wider, encouraging.

“Yesthere. Oh. Cain. Yes. Please,” Glitch moans semi-incoherently.

Wyatt kneels up between those pale legs and removes his fingers slowly, replacing them with the head of his cock. Glitch’s breath hitches as he works his way in. He slides in and out, slowly at first. Glitch moans as Cain brushes the top of his cock against the prostate.

"Cain," Glitch breaths as Wyatt starts building up a rhythm, his cock teasing the prostate every other stroke.

Glitch repeats his name over and over like a mantra as Wyatt picks up momentum in just a few strokes as the other man meets him thrust for thrust.

"My Glitch," Wyatt pants, "Glitch," against his lovers throat as he drives deeper and harder.

His strokes falter as he nears orgasm, becoming more frantic. They come screaming.

Wyatt collapses beside him bonelessly. Glitch has enough presence of mind to trail kisses across his chest.

“That’s better than Monkey Bat Stew,” he mumbles in between kisses.

“I would say so,” Wyatt says, smiling contentedly and wrapping his arms around the other man. “Think you can sleep now?”

“Sure. No more monkey bat kinks in the rafters,” Glitch sighs and smiles into Wyatt’s chest.


End file.
